


(Un)Attached

by rw_eaden



Series: Tumblr Askbox and Mini-Fics [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Season/Series 11, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 01:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16844452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/rw_eaden
Summary: The only thing worse than spending Valentine's Day alone is when your heart is spending it longing for someone else.





	(Un)Attached

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of archiving my tumblr fics. This is one of them and as such has not been edited.

It’s Valentine’s Day, but it’s not like it mattered anyway.

Even if Castiel wasn’t stuck in Hell, trapped in this body with Lucifer, it wouldn’t matter. He’d still be alone, probably binge watching something else while Dean sat in some seedy dive bar, making bedroom eyes at a blonde five years his junior. But still, as the demons around him grovel in fear and anticipation, as his body saunters across the throne room, he can’t help but think that maybe things could have been different. Maybe in some other life, some parallel universe, he wouldn’t’ve said yes. Maybe in some parallel universe, he wouldn’t’ve needed to. Maybe somewhere, he could have saved Sam, Raphael could’ve pulled his head out of his ass and there would be no Apocalypse: part duex. Perhaps, he would’ve left Purgatory with Dean, told the angels to screw themselves. Maybe, he was human with some meager job, but at least, when he came home – because he’d have a home – with his feet arching and his back throbbing, Dean would be there.

His lips moved and a voice that wasn’t his own is was barking orders. Cas didn’t pay attention. Hopefully in a few weeks, the Winchesters will find out what he’d done and one of them could run him through with an angel blade. Then it would be lights out; no more apocalypse, no more monsters, no more Heaven and Hell, no sinking in his chest, no faint blushes of heat when Dean’s fingertips pass against his own, and no chances for “maybe he feels it, too”.

“ _Oh, little brother_ ,” Lucifer’s soft voice echoes around him, “ _you pathetic little thing. What happened to you? You used to be a warrior. One of the best. Did you forget, being the Winchester’s little bitch all these years? Look at what they’ve done to you. And here you are, still pining over that meat-head, Dean. He threw you out, remember? He kicked you out when you needed him most and then he almost killed you. I get it, I do. Dad did the same thing to me. This is what assholes like them do to angels like us. They don’t appreciate what we’d do for them. They never have and they never will._ ”

Cas sighed and curled himself into a tight knot into the back of the vessel. He stopped paying attention to what Lucifer was seeing and hearing. Maybe Lucifer was right. But that didn’t stop the familiar tingling – that longing – running through his whole being.

———–

Unattached Drifter Christmas used to be Dean’s favorite holiday. The sheer number of lonely women in the world was a damn shame. Sure, that was fun to be able to have flings without consequence, but it was sad to see so many ladies, lovely in their own ways, so desperate for love and affection. They should all have someone who cared. Who showered them with attention and kisses, who would move heaven and earth as well as their beds. It had never bothered him before, so why was it bothering him now?

Dean ran his middle finger over the rim of his empty shot glass, glancing sidelong down the bar. A brunette with lipstick three shades too bright for her was staring into her daiquiri. What the hell? Might as well try. Dean flagged the bartender for another shot and moved, sitting in the corner seat at the bar, one seat away from the brunette. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t bother,” the brunette said, her eyes still locked on the red slushy in front of her.

“Okay,” Dean said, pulling himself off the barstool.

“No,” she said, placing a hand on the bar. Her baby blue nails clicking against the polished wood. “I mean don’t bother with the lines. We both know why we’re here. There’s no point in putting on.”

Dean sat back down. The bartender set the drink down in front of him and he threw back the shot. “My name is Dean,” he said.

“I don’t need to know,” she said, glancing at him. Her brown eyes were wide and wet, and her eyeliner had smudged down her lower lids.

Dean shook his head and glanced off at the dartboard across the bar. What the hell was he even doing here?

“Let’s save each other the sob stories, too,” the woman said. “I don’t care who she was or who she slept with and I know you don’t care who he was either. When you want to get outta here, my place is a few block that way.” She pointed to the west.

“What the hell,” Dean said rising from his seat with a shrug. His companion followed after.

The sex wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the best. She was aggressive, determined, forceful, but not passionate. It was just sex. Enjoyable, but limited. As they lay in bed together, Sam’s words rang through Dean’s mind: _Do you ever think of something more?_ Of course, he had, but so much more recently. Something more. Something different. Something pure. The image of bright blue eyes pierced through his thoughts. No. No. Not going there. He couldn’t even entertain the idea. No way. Cas was an angel, he was above that kind of thing. Cas didn’t want romance. And he surely didn’t want sex. Would Cas really care about setting up a house with a lawn and a mortgage and respectable jobs? Maybe some kids? He was kind of worried about Claire. He could make an okay dad. He’d be a worry wort, but he’d be pretty good at it. And watching him give the sex talk could be entertaining. What the hell? No, Cas was an angel. And he was a guy. He probably didn’t swing that way. There was on the chance he’d want something so mundane, so human, and definitely not with the absolute mess of sin and filth that was Dean Winchester.

Dean got himself dressed and left without a word. He had to resist the urge to pray the whole way home.


End file.
